Classes at Davis started today. My first class is tomorrow. In-person. I’m feeling…chock-full of feelings. But let’s go back to the beginning of this era: I was visiting home in late July, when I fractured my pelvis roller-skating, spent several days in the hospital, and subsequently had to delay my return to CA from August… Continue reading re:turning toward fall
For me, transMad, like its cripistemic foreparent, emerges via conversations across and along crip spacetime […] I mean to say intellectual life is interdependent; queercrip and transMad intellectual life unapologetically-so.
If, indeed, we want to create a big-tent space in which people can explore alternative possibilities to the cissexgender(ed) regime into which we’ve been indoctrinated, we need to maintain that space’s enthusiastic openness to those whose relationships with sexgender are not easy to parse.
If we correctly acknowledge recent and ongoing anti-trans, and particularly anti-trans youth, legislation, as well as longstanding c/overt efforts to genetically detect, isolate, and destroy this nebulous monster called “autism” in ever-younger children as well as fetuses in utero, as eugenics, we see that efforts at “curing” autism and denials of trans childrens’ bodily autonomy are not merely efforts to stymy individual behavior, but efforts to shape a future in which we never existed in the first place.
Blog readers are to Blog as the front row is to performance. Yet Blog is also personal. Blog is (or, given the form’s steep decline in popularity over the last decade, was) curated and semipersonalized intimacy, the process of CC’ing personal reflections to a hundred or a thousand of your closest friends.
If pressed, I’d call 2020 the best awful year I’ve ever had.
It’s Sunday, the midst/math is over, and I finally feel together-enough to post.
I don’t think I fully believed I would be Living in California until I got here, and even then, it was iffy.
I don’t know how to say goodbye to this house, not only because my memory keeps it close, but also because it hasn’t quite sunk in yet that I am Moving Out.
This (k)new name, for me, is not a tie-cut but an invitation.